


A Star Goes Out

by navaan



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Feelings Realization, Fix-It, Getting Together, M/M, Making Up, Pining, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-08 13:53:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15244824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/navaan/pseuds/navaan
Summary: Steve is ready to move on from being Captain America. He's not able to completely walk away from Tony though – and neither can he walk away from who he is.





	A Star Goes Out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dreamkist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamkist/gifts).



> Thank you, my dear overworked beta, pazithi, for looking it over at such short notice!

He put the uniform away even before he took stock. Bucky watched him quietly. 

“I still remember seeing you in that for the first time,” he said, and he looked terribly downtrodden. He also looked bruised and that wasn't surprising. Bucky had taken some bad hits and it was a wonder he was still standing. Tony hadn't pulled his punches there by the end. 

Steve had taken his fair share of hits himself and he would still feel the bruises for days.

And he deserved that.

The anger. The bruises.

He'd left Tony with about the same amount of both.

And he'd seen it in Tony's eyes: This had pushed Iron Man one step too far. He'd come to them to admit he'd been mistaken and Steve had been right all along, just to find that Steve had kept some of the facts from him all through it. 

Zemo had done a perfect job, exposing all their flaws and _playing_ them. He'd known how to pull them into breaking each other's trust.

Steve gritted his teeth.

He took a last long look at the uniform, before he shut the lid of the metal compartment and heard Tony's voice ringing in his ears: 

_I've made it better. Sturdier. Next time HYDRA throws you out of an elevator it'll still hurt, but you won't have any abrasions._

_I jumped through the glass, Tony._

_Yeah, you do things like that._

Their relationship had been like that – full of banter and teasing and tension and fondness, of standing together and disagreements. It had tethered itself somewhere between the edges of complication and ease. And now it was broken.

“I'll miss it,” Steve admitted to Bucky and he might just as well have been talking about Tony. He was sorry now for having left Tony behind in Siberia as he had. But if their places had been reversed then Steve wouldn't have taken any help graciously at that point. 

And Tony? Tony was a complicated man – and Steve was aware of at least some of his issues. No, it was best to let it rest, give Tony room to move beyond what had happened and reach out later.

* * *

“Man,” Sam told him. “I'm not sure that's how it works. I don't claim to know him. I know Rhodes much better now than Stark but...”

“He's not going to call you,” Natasha agreed. She wasn't casting blame or criticizing, he knew. After all, she was here now and she had stood with Tony for most of this before. She knew both sides – saw the white and gray areas in both their thinking. She was simply evaluating the situation.

If Steve had learned something from what Zemo had done to them, then it was that all of them had flaws. They all evaluated the world based on what they thought was right.

Tony, Steve, Sam, Nat.

In that they were all the same, even when they came to very different conclusions on most everything.

“He will call when he needs us,” Steve said with conviction. He knew Tony too. 

“You should have taken the shield and uniform T'Challa offered to you,” Sam pointed out and looked him over, as he stood before them in his jeans, shirt and leather jacket. “If you don't want to put on what you've got.”

Wanda grinned, not exactly making fun of him, but agreeing with the others.

He had thought about it. 

But he remembered Tony's words. They replayed in his mind every time he thought about going out in the old colors again.

_My father made that shield._

Steve had left it behind because he was done playing by the rules it had put on him. He no longer wanted to be the symbol.

He only wanted to be the man and do what he believed in. The uniform belonged to Captain America and he was no longer that.

“Sooner or later,” Natasha told him, “you'll have to get new gear.”

Later that night, Steve took the uniform from the bag he had put it into. He stared at it for the longest time.

 _Here_ , Tony had said when he'd shown him the uniform for the first time, _complete with ridiculously patriotic star to make you a better target._

Systematically, using one of Natasha's knives, he started to rip off the white outer layer. He was a man without a country. He no longer needed the star and bright colors. He would mute those down.

Time to use what he had and make it fit his new need for stealth.

* * *

When news arrived of the sale of Avengers Tower and shortly after of the engagement of Tony and Pepper, Steve felt he should have smiled. Tony was moving on.

That was good.

That was right.

It meant the wounds were healing.

And after all hadn't he told Tony he needed the Avengers? Wasn't it right that Tony had made the new compound his home?

Wanda walked past him with a spring in her steps. She had just returned from one of her solo trips that were becoming more and more frequent. “Why do you look so glum?”

“It's nothing,” Steve said and scratched his chin.

Sam piped up: “It's the beard. Makes him look grumpy.”

He let them laugh at his expense. 

The longer he looked at the news the more he felt like the world was laughing at him.

Maybe he should call Tony to congratulate him on the engagement. Maybe it was time that Steve reached out. But if Tony was moving past the hurt, then perhaps the kind thing to do was to let the wound heal without ripping it open unexpectedly.

* * *

The beginning of the end came when the phone finally rang. When it wasn't Tony's voice on the other end, it felt like a physical blow, even more than Banner's voice saying: “Tony's gone, Cap.”

“What do you mean 'gone'?”

“Gone. Spaceship. Who knows,” the man on the other end of the telephone said. “He's gone. And Thanos is still coming. Tony said you might know where to find Vision and...”

Tony had said. Tony had told Banner that. Had he been angry about it? Had he known and trusted Steve to handle whatever was going on between Vision and Wanda? Enough to just leave it to him?

Everything seemed a blur of missed chances. He had to bite his lip hard before he answered: “We're on our way.”

They watched the news together. Steve committed every moment of the fight to memory. He wanted to remember. A sinking feeling told him that Tony might still be with them if Steve had reached out to him before.

Another missed chance.

Another reason for regret. 

Many hours later, he found himself on his knees.

They'd lost.

They'd all lost.

* * *

Who was still alive, grieved. Even strong and indomitable Wakanda had fallen into the paralysis brought by shock and grief. Wakanda's king was gone. Sam was gone. Apart from Natasha Steve's whole team was gone. 

Bucky - after everything - gone.

Thor, who on the battlefield had been larger than life and unrelenting, sat opposite from him, head hanging, deep in thought. By his side sat the Raccoon-like creature he'd brought, quiet and grieving. 

News kept trickling in.

It was too much to take in.

“Is there nothing we can do?” Rhodes asked. He had just returned from a call with the security council. As of 12 minutes ago, they knew that Pepper Potts was also gone. 

“How do we know,” Banner said, “what happened to Tony?”

“Thanos had the time stone,” Thor said in a tired voice. “He had _all_ stones. Do you think he would have been able to get the stones if the keeper and Stark were still alive?”

Banner looked sad. He and Thor shared the memory of what had happened on Asgard and later on the ship destroyed by Thanos.

“We,” Steve pointed out, “are still alive. He got the stone from us, and we're still here.”

“Not all of us.”

But the Raccoon reacted to Steve's words. “Quill and the others might still be out there. We don't know if we haven't gone looking. Your friend... probably dead, but...” He sounded gruff. Losing his friend had devastated him, even though he made a show of having no feelings.

Thor looked at the alien long and hard, then back at Steve. “The rabbit speaks true.”

“If we have friends out there,” Steve said and for the first time in hours he felt a glimmer of something like hope, “we should bring them home?”

“Gather forces,” Thor agreed.

“Guys,” Natasha warned. “Don't get your hopes up. Both of you should rest...”

But it wasn't that.

In this Steve and Thor were the same: They needed a mission. They needed a reason to get up and work. This fight had been lost, but they couldn't sit around forever and lose themselves to the grief. 

“At least we'll know,” Rhodes said with a sad expression.

* * *

Thor took them to the edges of the universe with the Bifrost. Traveling the stars like this, it took Steve's breath away, made his heart sing with sadness and wonder. 

How could Thanos have won against someone like Thor? What chance did Iron Man stand against him?

“Finally,” Rocket said sadly. “There's the pod.”

* * *

They did not have the patience to take the spaceship. Steve hadn't.

And they had Thor and his new ability to cut paths through space.

Minutes later he found his feet standing in the dust of a dead planet, his knees shaking after the violent trip through the rainbow bridge, Thor the only solid thing beside him.

A knife was at Thor's throat instantly. 

“Who the hell are you? Asgardian?” A blue woman, looking like she was part robot or an advanced artificial lifeform like Vision had been.

Steve spared her a glance. Like they were drawn, his eyes found the figure of a man perched awkwardly among the piles of rubble, where he'd been gathering scraps. Tony. He stumbled forward. Tony stumbled towards them too. They didn't call out. 

Tony let himself slide down part of the mountain of rubble. He held himself like a man in pain. 

There was no armor.

An arm was held protectively in front of his torso.

He couldn't stand straight, his back hunched, his shoulders tense.

Steve walked faster to meet him, not missing any of the details.

“Nebula! They're with me. They're... with me,” Tony called past Steve when they had nearly reached each other. His eyes seemed to search out everything but Steve.

It was as good a moment to wrap him in his arms as any. 

He buried his face in Tony's sweat-matted hair and just held tight.

There was a sharp intake of breath. Then Tony let his weight sag against him. “You're alive,” he whispered with a near sob, returned the embrace tentatively. “Thank god, you're alive, Steve.”

“I'm sorry,” Steve said. “We'll get you home.”

He didn't loosen his embrace as he led Tony away. There was time for words and explanations later.

Tony didn't loosen his grip on Steve's arm either.

* * *

That first night back on earth, Tony fell asleep with his head on Steve's shoulder while Wakandan doctors took care of both their wounds. 

“How does he live?” one doctor asked and Steve listened drowsily while Nebula gave a short rundown of what had happened on that planet – Titan, birthplace of Thanos. They'd been very close to losing Tony as well.

He put an arm around Tony's hips and refused to move away.

* * *

For the first days, Steve barely allowed himself to lose sight of Tony. Nobody commented on it or dared to get in his way. He knew Tony noticed too, but he didn't complain, even when Steve became a constant visitor in his current workspace.

“Strange had a plan,” Tony told him after he'd puttered around for an hour to set up FRIDAY. Working with his hands seemed to help him stay focused.

“What do you mean?” 

He had heard the story by now, about how the sorcerer had given up the time stone to save Tony. The saved man still seemed to think it had been a bad move. Steve wasn't sure what to think. 

What he did know was that he didn't want to stand here, all their friends lost to Thanos and his genocidal solution for the universe, and know Tony had bled out to try and save them.

“He saw all possible outcomes,” Tony pondered. “Then he apologizes? Why would he say that?”

He watched Tony go through parts on the work table, seeking something to pick up in near agitation. Because Steve didn't want to see Tony fall apart now, after the man had taken every other news calmly, he stepped right into his space and hugged him, leaning his chin, against the top of his head, essentially trapping him. “Because he was sorry. Because he knew you'd be alone trapped on an alien planet.”

“I wasn't alone.”

“Without a working spaceship.”

“We could have made it work.”

“I know. Because he knew you would blame yourself.”

Somehow when Tony pushed him away to look at him defiantly, trying to make him understand, and Steve looked down at the same time, the sparks flew. They were too close. Tension and worry had mingled so closely that Steve could no longer tell them apart, not until his own lips brushed Tony's and suddenly Tony was kissing him back as if he'd thrown a lifeline to a drowning man.

They came up from it, heaving for breath, surprise written across their faces.

The simple truth of his own need for Tony had sneaked up on him. Part of him had always realized, part of him had always yearned, but he'd been too busy ignoring it. Perhaps part of him had always recognized the longing in Tony.

Like it did now when Tony licked his lips and Steve knew with hard-won clarity that he needed to kiss him again.

Tony clung to him, whispered sweet nonsense in his ear.

They ended up with Tony's back pressed down on the narrow workbench, while Steve tried desperately to pull Tony's shirt free. Tony's fingers were busy, with Steve's damaged uniform. Speaking had become unnecessary. Suddenly they both knew exactly what the other wanted to ask for before it was spoken. Suddenly the path was clear. 

He threw his chain-mailed uniform top aside, slipped out of the white shirt he wore under, watched Tony's eyes trace the line of his body as if he was claiming ownership and open the black sports jacket he was wearing. Steve watched fascinated as skin became available to view inch by inch.

He burned, with need and longing, the grief a constant at the back of his mind but swept under by the fire of lust and the promise of fulfillment. But even this grief they shared, and it became bearable with every hitched breath and moan he could wring from Tony's body, with every touch and kiss Tony bestowed on him.

Since losing against Thanos, perhaps since he'd thought Tony had died in his attempt to save New York and the time gem, Steve hadn't felt this alive.

When had he last even given himself the room for this? Simple pleasure?

The answer alluded him, when he slid a hand along the scar on Tony's side and made him arc his back, when Tony pushed up and into him, making him slip between his legs and move this along, when Tony's tongue pushed into his mouth and invited a new battle they hadn't fought yet.

He let himself go, the sensations pulling him towards one pleasurable goal and he pushed and pulled Tony along until they were both panting messes, spent and sweaty, but unwilling to let go and stop touching.

They had denied themselves this for too long.

Now Steve would never deny it again.

* * *

“If we're going to save the world again,” Tony said and led him towards the back of his workshop where the new Iron Man model loomed in a glass case to point at something new he'd made, “you need to own up to who you are again.”

A blue, red and white uniform was propped up. Chainmail covered the upper part. It looked new and functional and sturdy and of sleek design. His throat went dry when he realized that Tony had even brought his shield to prop it up with the rest of the gear.

The white star in the middle of the chest shone brightly.

He stepped up, watched the case open to him automatically and without command.

“Thank you,” he told Tony with a smile, happy when he saw the tension leave his lover's shoulders. 

Steve traced the star with one finger, trying to get to know this new suit before he'd become one with it. He already knew he loved it.

“Together,” he said loudly.

It would be like carrying one part of Tony around and into battle, so he'd never lose sight of what he had that was worth fighting for.

“Together,” Tony said back.

They were ready to fight back.

**Author's Note:**

> You can follow me for fic updates on [tumblr](https://navaanwrites.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/navaanwrites). This fic has a post on the tumblr [here](https://navaanwrites.tumblr.com/post/176046934414/fanfiction-mcu-a-star-goes-out-stevetony) in case you want to share it. It also has a page on my [Dreamwidth](https://navaan.dreamwidth.org/615988.html).


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